


Cracked Blue Leather

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff, Iruka's life in pictures, Kakashi loves each and every one, M/M, photo album
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9901883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: Kakashi never pressed Iruka about things that needed to be kept secret, but he couldn't help his fascination with a certain photo album.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the story I had in my head when I made an [Iruka tribute video](https://youtu.be/T3a587W41Z0). It just took me almost 6 months to write it. :D

Kakashi had always known that Iruka kept a few things secret. It was only fair seeing as he did the same. Life as a shinobi was hard and violent, and there were some things that were better left unsaid; better if they were held back. Neither wanted to bring the blood of their battlefields into the quiet moments that they spent together, and the unspoken rule was that whatever one chose to keep to himself would be respected by the other.

There were a few exceptions, of course. For the longest time Kakashi had kept thoughts of his father strictly to himself, but after Pein's assault on the village he had made a point of telling Iruka everything he could about the famed White Fang of Konoha. It was important, he had said, to understand the difference between who Sakumo really was and what people (still) said about him. Iruka had listened intently, cried a little bit, and attempted no words of comfort, instead simply hugging Kakashi and then making tea.

He hadn't even been terribly upset when Iruka didn't reciprocate. Kakashi knew, after all, how tangled together the death's of Ikkaku and Kohari were with some of the most painful events in the village's history, so expecting Iruka to talk about all of that seemed unnecessarily cruel. There was some talk, though, about the late Sandaime, and Kakashi reveled in the understanding he gained of the relationship between Iruka and the beloved Third Hokage.

But there were some things that Iruka simply refused to discuss. He was never rude about it, just calm and matter-of-fact. _I'm a teacher, Kakashi_ , he had said the one time his lover asked. _Children trust me, and I would never reveal any of their secrets. Not even to you. It's just unfortunate that so many parts of my life intersect with their secrets._

Kakashi never pressed. It may have frustrated him, to a degree, but it was also a part of why he loved Iruka as intensely as he did. Besides, he had other things – other “secrets” - to occupy his mind with.

Like the photo album with the cracked, blue leather cover.

He had asked Iruka about it once, receiving little more than a shrug in response. _I rescued it from the ruins of our house after. . . you know_ , the younger man had replied. _I like to change the pictures in it every now and and again. It's relaxing, and it keeps me grounded in this crazy world we live in. It's really not a big deal._

And it genuinely wasn't. The album sat on one of the bookshelves in their living room, in plain sight. And Iruka never treated it like some sort of secret, even taking it out and looking through it on occasion, taking some pictures out and replacing them with others, all while Kakashi sat on the other end of the sofa sipping tea. On a couple of occasions he even offered to share the memories the album contained, but Kakashi was aware enough of the delicate balance of their relationship to want to avoid treading were perhaps he shouldn't.

That wasn't to say he lacked curiosity; far from it. That little, unassuming book grabbed his attention every time he entered the living room, and it had only gotten worse since he had retired as Hokage. He had more time on his hands now, even with his seat on the council and the occasional diplomatic mission.

All things considered he shouldn't have been surprised one Sunday afternoon when Iruka caught him staring at the album. The younger man didn't say a word, just gracefully rose to his feet and crossed the room to the bookshelf, returning to the sofa to toss the album in Kakashi's lap. “I've been waiting years for you to break down and ask about it,” he said, grinning. “Just. . . Get it over with, already.” He moved to the door, grabbing his jacket as he did. “I'm going for groceries and will be back in a hour.”

The click as the door shut pulled Kakashi out of his momentary stupor. He tentatively reached out, caressing the worn leather beneath his hand for a long moment before taking a deep breath and opening the cover.

He was glad he had taken that breath, because the first picture in the album stole almost all of his air. It was almost a portrait piece; Iruka in the foreground, in profile, with the Hokage Monument behind him. The expression on his face was pensive, contemplative, while at the same time fierce and protective. The two kunai clasped in the fingers of his left hand completed the image of a man guarding what was most precious to him. The beauty of the photo made Kakashi's heart pound in his chest. It was everything, and more, that he had fallen in love with.

He flipped to the next page and a chuckle escaped his throat. It was Iruka, a light blush high on his cheeks, eyes all but squeezed shut. The image looked as if the man in it had only just stopped laughing seconds before. He remembered when it had been taken; during a village festival a group of shinobi had gathered around, all dubiously impressed with Gai's usual antics. Raidou had had a camera that day, and couldn't resist snapping a picture of the normally restrained Academy teacher in a moment of humor-induced weakness.

The next photo in the album almost felt like a kick to the stomach; it was a picture that he himself had taken. Before he and Iruka had ever had their first date, before they had ever fallen in love and committed, each to the other, Kakashi had spent a considerable amount of his downtime pining after the teacher and using any excuse to see him and talk to him, even if just for a moment. This photograph had been one of those moments; freshly returned from a surveillance mission with his genin team they had encountered Iruka on the street. Naruto and Sakura had immediately rushed forward, full of chatter about the mission (and complaints about Kakashi) and Iruka had crouched down to be on the same level as the kids. As soon as he did both genin had leaned close to whisper in his ears, and whatever they said had caused a grin to spread on Iruka's face.

Kakashi had quickly snapped a picture, thankful that their most recent mission had required a camera.

Then there was another casual, candid shot, Iruka's smile wide and welcoming as always, one hand stretched out toward the photographer. He looked almost ridiculously young, although clearly older than sixteen since he was wearing the standard chuunin vest. Kakashi traced one finger over the photographic scar on Iruka's nose, feeling his own smile broaden as he did. It was followed by a picture of Iruka with six young boys, all about ten years old and all easily recognizable. Naruto had an arm slung casually around Shikamaru's neck, Chouji had a bag of his favorite barbecue chips in his hand, and Kiba was holding Akamaru, making sure that the puppy was also in the frame. Even at that age Shino looked rather inscrutable, and Sasuke looked almost happy.

Another picture of Iruka with the smile Kakashi loved so much, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Iruka and a young Naruto together, both mugging at the camera, the waterfall that bordered Training Ground Five visible in the background. Iruka as a child with the Sandaime, a photo taken after the death of his parents, judging by the sadness on his youthful face. Iruka in his funeral uniform, hair down and hitai-ate clenched in one hand, the snail tracks of tears visible on his cheeks. It was impossible to guess who's funeral it had been; they had all lost far too many people in their lives.

The next picture was another one that Kakashi had taken. It had been their third date, a picnic in the public park surrounding the Daimyo's mansion. Kakashi had brought the camera along to take photos of what he had been assured was a beautiful landscape, but had ended up filling the roll with nothing but Iruka. The final picture he had taken that day was the one he now stared at; barely five seconds after it was taken they had shared their first kiss, and all thoughts of parks, picnics, and photography had fled Kakashi's mind.

He laughed out loud when he flipped to the next page, looking at Iruka and Naruto with paint-smeared faces, clearly having just pulled off a successful prank of some sort. But what made Kakashi laugh was the clearly visible (and also paint-smudged) haori of the Seventh Hokage that Naruto wore, and he remembered his own graffiti speckled face on the Hokage Monument the morning after Naruto's inauguration.

He strongly suspected that Hinata had taken the photo.

He passed over a photo of Iruka in an unguarded moment, staring off into space as if deep in thought. Judging by the wall he was leaning against it had been taken in an Academy corridor, sunlight slanting from the ceiling towards the floor. But the next picture in the album made his heart leap to his throat.

Iruka might have been six when it was taken. The distinctive scar across his nose was a fresh wound, stitches still visible. His grin was cheeky as he flashed a “V for Victory” at the camera. But it wasn't the sight of his lover that arrested Kakashi's attention.

It was the first picture in the album that included Iruka's parents.

Ikkaku and Kohari stood behind their son, hands on his shoulders and loving smiles on their faces. The family resemblance was strong; except for the shape of the eyes Iruka was a miniature version of his father, but with his mother's darker skin tone. Umino Kohari had a mischievous quality to her that her son had also inherited, it was visible in the eyes and in her smile. And her beauty, like that of her son, was undeniable.

There were burn marks around the edges of the photo, a reminder of the night the pair of them had been killed. Kakashi blinked back sudden tears as he imagined Iruka, ten years old, salvaging what he could from a devastated home and life and then preserving that photo every day since.

There followed another two unposed photos – Iruka caught more or less by surprise and smiling in one and in the other looking like he was about to launch into a lecture on kunai safety for a stubborn student – before another family picture, taken at what was clearly a festival of some sort. Iruka appeared to be sound asleep in his father's arms but still managing to clutch the plastic bag containing a goldfish. His mother was laughing while Ikkaku cast a loving, sidelong glance her way. The injury across Iruka's nose was healed, the scar still pink and fresh.

A picture of Iruka alone, a determined look on his face. Kakashi knew that look better than most; it was the face of a man protecting those entrusted to his charge. Iruka had looked like that when they had argued over the Chuunin Exam so many years ago. Then another of Naruto and Iruka together, identical gins creasing their faces. A definite tick on the nurture side of the nature versus nurture argument.

And then he had to catch his breath again. While many of his friends and colleagues knew that photography was something of a hobby of Kakashi's only Iruka knew about his experiments with black and white pictures. And the main reason Iruka knew was because of the photo that he had included in the album.

Kakashi vividly remembered taking it one morning as the first rays of sun spilled across their shared bed. Iruka had been asleep, sprawled on his stomach, hair loose and spread across the pillow. The sheet had slipped low, barely hanging on over a slender pair of hips and clinging to the enticing curve of his ass. In truth Kakashi hadn't even given the matter any thought; he had just taken up his camera and snapped the picture. It was only later, when he had seen the developed shots from that roll, that Iruka had flipped out, saying that it made him look more debauched than any teacher should look.

Not that he ever said anything but it was for that reason alone that Kakashi adored the photo. He adored it even more knowing that Iruka had kept a copy as well.

The next picture featured an Iruka that looked somewhat worried, probably taken during that memorable chuunin exam. Then Iruka and Naruto together, a quiet moment between the two of them; Naruto staring straight ahead to his future and Iruka looking fondly at the boy. A young Iruka, still Academy age, slingshot in hand and and prankster's smile in place.

The next picture was also of Iruka and Naruto together, and it was one that made Kakashi blink away sudden tears. No one knew who had taken the picture, although it was known that at least five people in the village had copies. It had been taken after the nightmare of Pein's assault on Konoha, after Naruto had saved everyone. The raucous celebration of their hero's return had kept a large portion of the village's shinobi busy for a time, but eventually enthusiasm had waned, not the least of which was Naruto's own. Exhausted and heartsick he had pushed his way through the assembled crowd, looking for the one face he needed to see above all others.

Watching the teacher and his beloved student throw themselves each into the other's arms had brought tears to the eyes of even the most hardened ninja. Kakashi was no exception, and the moment when Iruka's eyes had met his over Naruto's head and the teacher had mouthed _Thank you_ had pretty much undone whatever reputation for stoicism he still had.

There were three photos of Iruka in a row that had all been taken by Kakashi. The first was an almost intimate portrait of a sleepy-eyed Iruka, looking into the camera with bottomless love and affection. A profile shot of a daydreaming Iruka, endless blue sky in the background. And a laughing Iruka, lighthearted and beautiful. That sight always brought a smile to Kakashi's face.

And then there was only one page left in the album, and he was almost reluctant to turn and look at it. He heard the door open and close behind him as he finally turned to the final photograph.

It was a picture of the pair of them, but it wasn't any sort of posed portrait or even a candid moment between them. Kakashi laughed out loud as the memory of that incident flooded through him. Iruka had wanted a proper photograph of the two of them, and after weeks of arguing about it (mainly because Kakashi refused to remove his mask for another photographer) they had agreed on a compromise. They would take the photo in their home, using Kakashi's camera with the timer function.

It had all sounded good in theory, but when it came down to it everything went wrong. On his way to the sofa after setting the timer Kakashi had tripped over one of the tripod's legs and stumbled into Iruka. Caught off balance the younger man had fallen to the floor, reaching out at the last minute to try and steady himself by grabbing Kakashi's arm. But that had only resulted in the two of them, plus the camera, ending up on the floor. The moment of breathless laughter had ended when Iruka had reached out and cupped his hands on the nape of Kakashi's neck, pulling the older man close. Neither had noticed the whir of the timer and then the click of the shutter as the camera took their picture.

“I think that's probably my favorite photo of the many you've taken,” Iruka spoke from behind Kakashi.

Kakashi coughed once. “Wh. . . Why is that?” he asked, closing the album and turning to face his lover

“Because,” the chuunin began as he moved forward to sit beside the other man, “it's Hatake Kakashi as only I get to see him: open, unguarded, unmasked. . .” He paused and laid a hand over Kakashi's where it still grasped the album. “Loving,” he whispered the last word.

“Why are there so many pictures of you by yourself in here?” Kakashi asked, shifting closer so he could lay his head on top of Iruka's. “Some might think that a bit egotistical.”

Iruka laughed softly. “This album was never meant for me to look at, you know. It was always for you, so I put as much of myself into it as I could.” He took the album and opened it to the page of the singed photo of him and his parents. “Even this picture, which is more precious to me than almost anything else in the world.”

“Iruka. . .

“I give you these pieces of myself because I want you to know what you mean to me, what you have always meant to me.” He chuckled again. “I just didn't think I'd have to shove the album into your hands.”

“I thought I was respecting your privacy by not looking at it,” Kakashi replied, sounding a little huffy.

“I know, and I love you for that. But it's different when I give it freely.”

And it was, Kakashi thought as he pulled Iruka in for a kiss. It always had been and it always be.


End file.
